


Don't Apologize

by somekindaspacecadet



Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Jack is an emo baby but I love him, M/M, Post-Strike, Race is Jack's brother and you can't change my mind about it, The Refuge sucks, Two gays on a roof
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-11
Updated: 2018-09-11
Packaged: 2019-07-10 23:17:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15959654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somekindaspacecadet/pseuds/somekindaspacecadet
Summary: Jack can't keep hiding the fact that he feels terrible, but Crutchie (as usual) knows exactly what to say.





	Don't Apologize

**Author's Note:**

> I just realized that I end all my fics with gays saying they love each other but I'm not upset about that

Jack Kelly was proud of his penthouse. It was his space, a space he’d earned by working hard to prove he could lead the Lodge by himself when Captain aged out. It wasn't much, but Jack couldn't care less if there was no bed up there, or if it sometimes got cold and windy, or if it occasionally rained. With a ceiling of stars over his head and the love of his life in his arms, the penthouse felt like a palace to Jack. It was a safe haven. 

But tonight, he didn't feel safe.

Well, to be exact, it wasn't his own physical safety he was worried about, or anyone else's, for that matter. He was overwhelmed with happiness to have Crutchie home. It had only been three days, and he hadn't stopped beaming the entire time. Until now. Until he was finally too tired and vulnerable to hold back the dark, sour guilt that was bubbling up from somewhere deep inside his heart and pushing him past the breaking point. _It was my fault._

Jack separated himself from the blanket that was wrapped around him and Crutchie as delicately as he could. His boyfriend didn't even stir, except to sigh in his sleep as Jack tugged the blanket back up around his shoulders. The moonlight on Crutchie’s face made his skin and hair glow, and Jack thought to himself, not for the first time, that he looked just like an angel.

He tiptoed across the roof to the fire escape and climbed down the rusty ladder, careful not to let it squeak. Crutchie was a fairly heavy sleeper, but Jack didn't want to take any chances. He needed to be alone right now, to clear his head.

Jack ducked through the window into the Lodge and snuck past the other boys, sleeping in their dorms with the doors cracked open, until he reached the kitchen. He grabbed a glass from the cabinet, grimy from years of use and chipped in several places. Pumping water through the sink tap with one hand, he filled up the glass halfway, then raised it to his mouth with trembling fingers. Before he could drink, a creak on the floorboards startled him, and the glass tumbled from his hand, sloshing cold water down his shirt front and smashing to pieces on the floor. 

Hissing a curse underneath his breath, Jack bent down to pick up the shards of glass. He could barely see them by the light that snuck in through the single dusty window on the opposite wall, and started whispering obscenities again as an unseen piece sliced into his palm with a sharp, stinging jolt of pain. A few round scarlet droplets of blood fell onto the floor before Jack noticed Race crouch down next to him. “Shit, Jack, m’sorry,” he was saying, quietly but fervently. “I didn’t mean ta scare ya. I shoulda said somethin’ ‘fore I just walked in here on ya. I’m real sorry. Oh no, you’s hurt!”

The words all tumbled out of Race’s mouth at once, but he came to an abrupt stop with a gasp as he noticed the cut on Jack’s hand. If Jack had been feeling better, he would have laughed at the way Race’s sentences ran together in fast, messy loops, like a kid’s wind-up toy. Instead, he just shrugged. “Don’t worry bout it.”

Race frowned. “You oughta have somebody look at it. It looks kinda deep.” He stood for a moment to retrieve a small broom and a dustpan from the corner (a gift from Davey, who had told Jack with a roll of his eyes that if someone didn’t get all the dirt and dust off the floor, everybody would eventually drown in it), and used it to sweep up the remaining fragments of glass. He dumped the pieces into an empty paper bag and came back to Jack’s side with a dry rag. He grabbed Jack by the wrist and forced his hand flat, then wrapped the rag tightly around his palm, knotting it in a few quick motions.

“Where’d you learn how to do that?” Jack asked, genuinely surprised at Race’s quick reaction to his injury.

It was Race’s turn to shrug nonchalantly. “Some’a the kids at Brooklyn knows a few things. Drops was showin’ everybody how to wrap up cuts one day, so’s they wouldn’t bleed too much ‘fore they could get help, if they ever get hurt,” he explained. “I could show you how, if you wanna learn. It’s real simple.”

“Yeah, maybe later. Thanks.” Jack looked at his hand in the dim silver light, then curled up his fingers and started fiddling with the loose ends on the makeshift bandage.

“You sure you’s okay?” Race asked.

“It don’t hurt too bad.”

“Not that.” Race shook his head. “You look like somebody killed your dog. An’ you ain’t got a dog.”

Jack huffed softly, as if he was going to object, but he didn’t have the energy to put up a fight. “Just thinkin’.”

Race nudged his shoulder gently. “Yeah? Bout what?”

The thoughts pounded at Jack’s skull in response. I should have done something. I should have gone after him. I should have been the first to run to him. It was my fault. “Crutchie.”

“You an’ him doin’ okay?”

“Yeah, course.” Jack bobbed his head. “It's-- I just--”

Race waited patiently for Jack to stop stammering. 

“I-It was my fault,” Jack managed. “It was my fault.”

Seeming to understand immediately, Race shook his head insistently. “No. No. It weren't your fault, Jack. Snyder took 'im and you couldn't'a fought 'im. He had the bulls on his side and everythin’.” His eyes widened in sympathy. “Nobody blames ya.”

Jack shifted uneasily. “I dunno bout that.”

“Well, I do.” Race crossed his arms matter-of-factly. “And if anybody says otherwise, I’ll beat the shit out of ‘em, cause everybody knows you love Crutchie more than anythin’.”

“I do,” Jack said quietly. He pulled his knees up to his chest and leaned his forehead against them. “But I don't deserve him after just-just standin’ there and lettin’ 'im go--” He broke off with a sigh.

Race was shaking his head. “That ain't true. It ain't about deservin’ each other, it's about choosin’ each other, cause everybody's too different to compare.” He offered a smile. “'Member who told me that?”

Jack returned the smile, but his was just an echo of Race’s. He was the one who had told him that, a few years back when he’d started getting serious with Spot. 

“But what you gotta know is,” Race continued, “you ain't any worse for not gettin’ up and runnin’ after him. Would you be this mad if it was somebody else in your place? If it was him there and you gettin’ taken away?”

Jack shrugged, but Race had a good point. He knew that if it had been him getting dragged off and Crutchie hadn't been able to come after him right away, of course he could never hold that against him, not in a million years. He briefly remembered lying on his back on a filthy bunk in the Refuge, pushed so far to one side by the other boys in the bed that he was almost hanging off, trying to shut out the stifling stench and the sounds of children crying by concentrating with every fiber of his being on Crutchie. Just knowing that he was back at the Lodge, thinking of him, had felt as good as being rescued.

“Go talk to 'im.” Race nudged Jack again, more imploringly this time, with a tone of voice like Jack already knew what he was going to tell him. “Tell 'im what's on ya mind.”

“It's the middle of the night,” Jack said, but managed to push himself onto his feet anyway. “He's sleepin’. He had a tough day sellin’.”

“In the mornin’, then, if you wanna,” Race replied with a shrug as he got to his feet, too. “But you know he won't mind you wakin’ 'im up. Anyways, he's the one you need to be tellin’, not me.”

Jack nodded. “I guess you's right.” He reached out and gave Race's hair a half-hearted ruffle. “Thanks.”

To his surprise, Race tugged Jack into a tight hug. “Course.” He squeezed his shoulders. “Love ya.”

Jack hugged him back. “Love you too.”

Jack was sure that if the sound of the rusty ladder didn't give him away and wake Crutchie up, the pounding of his heart would. Talking to Race had helped him muster up the courage to tell Crutchie how he was feeling, but he wasn't any less terrified. As he clambered over the edge of the roof, he made a silent prayer that his boyfriend would still be sound asleep and he could just lay down next to him and get away with not waking him up. But his heart dropped into his stomach when he saw Crutchie already sitting up, waiting for him.

“Hey,” he was saying. “Where’d you go?”

“Uh, just to get some water.” Jack shrugged and got back under the blanket with Crutchie. He wrapped his arms around his waist and kissed his temple. “Sorry for wakin’ you up.”

“I got cold without ya,” Crutchie teased. He leaned against Jack’s shoulder. “Can't believe you left me up here to freeze.”

Jack rolled his eyes. He felt a genuine smile tug at the corners of his mouth. “It's the middle’a summer.”

“Mm,” Crutchie murmured affirmatively, happily snuggling his face into Jack's shirt. “Still wouldn't wanna sleep without ya, though.” He tried to tug Jack back down to where they'd been laying, heads resting on a couple of old pillows that had been flattened and lost most of their feathers with age. “Let's go back to sleep.”

“Um--” Jack objected quietly, remaining upright. He rubbed his palms together nervously.

Crutchie stopped and looked up at him curiously. “You okay?”

“I-- um.” Jack swallowed. How was he supposed to bring this up?

“Hey.” Crutchie grabbed the hands Jack had been anxiously wringing and held them, running his fingers gently across the smooth skin on the inside of Jack’s palms. “You been nervous ‘bout somethin’ lately.”

Jack nodded silently, occupying himself with looking down at their hands.

“You wanna tell me 'bout it?”

For what felt like hours, but was probably only seconds, Jack just sat there, staring at his own hands with Crutchie's fingers wrapped around them, their knees bumped up against each other, and a threadbare blanket twisted around their legs. He finally said the words that wouldn't stop running in circles around his brain. “It was my fault.”

Crutchie frowned. “Huh?”

Jack suddenly felt a lump rising in his throat that he was sure hadn't been there a moment ago. “God, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry,” he said hoarsely. “It was all my fault. I'm so sorry.”

“You ain't done anythin’ wrong,” Crutchie said. He squeezed Jack's hands. “I promise, okay? What’re you sayin’ sorry for?”

“I just stood there,” Jack said. His voice was strained and wavering. “I-- I just stood there and watched and they was takin’ you away and-- they didn't _feed_ you in there, Charlie--”

“Jack. Jack.” Crutchie leaned forward as he realized what he was saying and pulled Jack into a hug. “Don’t say that. I’s okay. You didn't do nothin’ wrong.” He brushed a hand across Jack's hair. “I know it musta been tough on you when I was gone. I shoulda asked if you was okay.” He sounded genuinely worried, and gave Jack's shoulders a tight squeeze. “M’sorry.”

Jack was shaking his head, even though his face was still pressed into Crutchie’s shirt. “I-- course I'm okay, I weren't the one gettin’ dragged off by Snyder,” he protested. “I shouldn't of let that happen to you. I- I coulda stopped it. I should’ve run as soon as I saw him comin’, I could've gotten you outta there--”

He was interrupted by Crutchie tipping his chin up with one hand and kissing him. Jack felt himself relaxing involuntarily and leaning towards Crutchie. They broke apart after a moment, foreheads still leaning together, and Jack sighed.

“Listen to me for a second, okay?” Crutchie asked quietly. “You’s the best boyfriend anybody could ever ask for.”

Jack scoffed a little.

“No, no.” Crutchie kissed him again. “I ain't gonna let you beat yourself up over this, cause you was the one who got me out. You made those drawin’s and then Roosevelt saw ‘em and he let us all out, ‘cause you’s smart an’ brave and you an’ Kath an’ Spot an’ everybody else kicked Pulitzer's ass, right?”

“You was still in there,” Jack mumbled.

“Yeah.” Crutchie shrugged. “It was bad, but I was mostly just hopin’ you was okay and the strike was gonna work.” He brushed his fingers across Jack's cheek. “I wasn't mad at you. Not even a little.”

“I know.” Jack said quietly. “I-- I dunno if it's ever gonna get outta my head.”

“That's okay. You don't gotta forget it.” Crutchie kissed him one more time and then leaned back a little, taking Jack's hands again. “But right now we’s both okay, an’ all that's over. So let's just think more ‘bout what we’s gonna do right now, okay?”

Jack managed a smile. “What's that?”

“Well we’s together now, for starters,” Crutchie teased him with a grin. “Or did ya forget?”

Jack blushed, smiling wider. “Course I didn't forget.”

“I'm glad we told everybody.” Crutchie sighed wistfully. “I feel like I been waitin’ my whole life.”

“Me too,” Jack agreed. He paused. “I’m glad I'm with you. Nobody else puts up with my shit.”

“Same here.” Crutchie laughed and kissed his cheek. “Looks like we’s a good match.”

Jack smiled for real this time. “Yeah.”

“You gonna be okay?” Crutchie asked.

“Guess so.” Jack felt his cheeks heating up, embarrassed now that he'd made Crutchie so worried. “Sorry.”

“It's my job.” Crutchie laid back down and tugged on Jack's shirt with a yawn. “C’mon, let's go to bed.”

Jack laid down next to him and curled up by his side. “I love you.”

“So damn much.”

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on tumblr @somekindaspacecadet where I post mildly interesting content !  
> Also I have a few other fics up rn about other underappreciated newsies ships so I'd love it if you wanted to read those <3 (and stay tuned for a college au hopefully coming soon with many many lgbt+ newsboys)


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